<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Losers club oneshot book by trxshmxxth_rxjxt</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856674">Losers club oneshot book</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/trxshmxxth_rxjxt/pseuds/trxshmxxth_rxjxt'>trxshmxxth_rxjxt</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adult Bill Denbrough, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak, Adult Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Adult Richie Tozier, Angst with a sad ending, Angsty Richie Tozier, Fluff Prompts, I Want That Twink Obliterated, Losers club - Freeform, M/M, Underage Drinking, Underage Smoking, adult losers club, angst prompts, oneshot book</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:33:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,005</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856674</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/trxshmxxth_rxjxt/pseuds/trxshmxxth_rxjxt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is basically a collection of things i've written when im on a writing kick. Posting has no schedule to it, There might be a pattern to it eventually, there might not be. Please enjoy, and maybe bring some tissues if you like?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>One sided reddie - Relationship, Reddie - Relationship</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>1.</p><p>Richie sits at home, a coffee mug between his hands. The constant buzzing of his phone has gone numb to his ears, being replaced by the sound of his first love being impaled by a space clown. A knock at his door broke into his thoughts, barely registering with his mental consciousness. Bill walked through the door to his condo, holding a to-go coffee in his hand and a phone in the other, his expression darkened and angry. “ What the HELL, Richie?”</p><p>	Richie wasn’t fully listening, but the loudness of his tone did startle him into raising his shoulders upwards towards his ears, in a means of silencing the noise and going back to the numbness he’d been basking in for a week now. “ Richie, you insulted several fans yesterday, and the week before that you told the shop owner to go to hell on live television. What is up with you? Ever since Eddie died, you haven’t been, well, yourself. “ </p><p> 	He stirred from his chair, rising up to his full height, shoulders slouched forward and tear tracts stained onto his face. He looked like a wreck. Felt like one too. “ I’m just trying to get back into the swing of things, socialize again.”<br/>“ Well, maybe you SHOULDN”T SOCIALIZE! They hate you anyway.” Bill’s voice, usually mellow and calm, was loud and outraged, an assault on the receiving end’s ears. But the torrent of rage didn’t stop there.” Nobody watches your content anymore! Ever since neibolt you got fucked and you deserved it. “</p><p>Richie took a step back. His back hit the counter, cool marble colliding with the same tshirt he had worn the day down in the cistern, clinging to Eddie and praying to any god that would listen that he would make it through that day. The tears ran anew down his face, hands tucked stiffly into his front pockets, an attempt to not return the punch Bill threw when they were just thirteen, squaring off against a clown in a sewer far below where they could cry for help and be heard.</p><p>Bill, startled back into control of himself by the sound of Richie’s breathing shift into a pattern of something only recognizable by a person who had used the same pattern of breathing themself. “ Rich, I didn’t mean it-”<br/>“ Get out of my apartment, and get out of my life. “ The expression on his face had shifted from something of sadness to something of a man who had nothing to gain. His shoulders had begun to shake, glasses beginning to fog up.<br/>Bill, to his merit, accepted his defeat and backed out the door, taking his coffee and phone with him. The door clicked shut, leaving Richie alone again. The facade dropped, waterworks beginning. His feet moved of their own accord, backing him up against a wall, conveniently the wall which Eddie’s jacket hung. His fingers caught in the pocket, dragging it off the wall and into his arms.<br/>	It still smelled like him, even through the metallic scent of blood, earthy scent of the grey water of the cistern, and the salt of Richie’s own tears. Still smelled like fresh linen lotion, still smelled like the way all new york apartment and homes do. Richie could still smell the cologne on the sleeves and neckline, although faint, it was there. <br/>The tears caught on the bottom rims of Richie’s glasses, the salt washing into the smell of Eddie. His mind, broken and shattered and looped on a hook, played Eddie’s gasp, when he was stabbed. It was almost worse than Beverly’s heart shattering scream. Blood, crimson and sticky, dripped down off of Eddie’s lower lip, leaving a stain on the hood of the jacket. Richie decided not to focus on that particular stain, but the scene had already changed.<br/>	Eddie, propped against a rock on the base of the cavern, blood pooling from the hole in his chest. It soaked his shirt a red crimson. Even though in his mind, he knew this was just a memory, the overwhelming panic of trying to keep Eddie alive was coursing through his brain. <br/>	Then it was too late.<br/>	Richie came back to reality, crouched on the floor of his condo, clutching his dead lovers jacket in a stone cold death grip, glasses and mind fogged. His world crashed and shattered for the third time in a week. Pressed against a wall was where he stayed for the remainder of the evening and the next, trying to the best of his extent to stop the reel of Eddie being stabbed. Eddie bleeding out. Eddie’s lifeless body, cold against the wall. It kept playing in his brain, reliving the trauma. Richie didn't really get back on his feet after that, plagued by constant replays of that day. The losers club drifted and broke, starting with Bill's outburst towards Richie. It split further from there. Bev's fashion line took off, cutting her connection with the Losers in favor of pursuing a famous fashion line. Mike broke off next, leaving Derry for good and going to Florida like he'd always wanted, but his mind never left Derry. He still watched diligently for red balloons, for a clown in the corner of his eye. Ben gradually followed the chain, But nobody knew where he went. He passed his company off to his second in command and then disappeared from all networking systems. But the horrors they had faced together, those would forever be with them. They would always be with them. IT never really stopped, did it?</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Don't die on me, please..</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I thoroughly apologize for the hurt you experience in this chapter. Wait, no im not! lol have fun</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>2. </p><p>“ Don’t die on me, PLEASE!”</p><p>Richie shook Eddie violently, scrambling for something, anything, to keep him alive. Eddie lay breathing shallowly, blood turning his once pale hands crimson. “ Eddie, Eddie, Eddie, look at me. Don’t say anything, don’t move. Just stay with me. “<br/>	Panic had woven it’s way through his tone, taking root to forever be a part of him. Blood slipped from Eddie’s mouth, dripping a winding trail down his skin and shirt to join the rest of it on the floor. The logic in the brain of the living said to stop trying to save him, that he was already gone. Richie refused to believe it, tears welling as a product from combined stress and panic. <br/>	A soft tug on his sleeve broke his circle of thought. Richie took a glance down, tried his hardest not to instead focus on the gaping hole in his lover’s chest. Eddie had gripped onto the sleeve of his pleather jacket, knotting his fingers into the stiff, starched material. “ Rich, it’s ok. “<br/>	The hard realization hit Richie in the back of the head. The look in Eddie’s eyes was not of a man who would do what it took to survive, but instead of a man who had accepted his fate as a dead man. A soft smile took form on Eddie’s face, splitting the cut there. Blood soaked through the cotton overtop of it. His skin, slowly chilling to ice as his heart beat slower and slower. “ Let me go Rich. It’ll be ok.”<br/>	Richie struggled for words. It was if his tongue had spun on itself and knotted. He scrambled for something, anything, that would give him a shot at leaving the hell-damned cave with him. But it happened too soon, too fast, too.. sudden. “ Richie, look at me.”<br/> 	He wheezed, the world slowed to a stop. Shadow and light melded as one. “ I’ll see you again. Go,” He coughed harshly, blood bright against the stark skin. “ Go kill that damned clown.”<br/>	Richie could only watch in horror, the salt stinging his eyes as it reflected off his glasses. “ No, No, NO! I won’t let you die like this!”<br/>	A faint smile, a whisper of a confession on his lips, before his eyes grew cold and glazed, the subtle rhythmic rise of his chest stopping.<br/>	It was as if the world had stopped. Time stopped ticking. The faint quiver of his hands was the only thing keeping him grounded. The body had started to cool, blood starting to thicken and stick. <br/>	Beverly was at his side in an instant, gripping at his shoulders to pull him away. Everything had gone numb. The rest of them were too focused on not suffering the same fate as their dear friend, had taken up arms and were spitting insults as fast as they could let them loose. <br/>	He could barely think, move, or speak. “ RICHIE!”<br/>	Bill gripped his hands into the collar of his blood-soaked leather jacket, shaking him into a weary state of consciousness. “ Richie, wake up. Grieve later.”<br/>	“ you.. YOU STUPID CLOWN!”<br/>	His hand had tightened around a chunk of rock he hadn’t realized he was holding. It cut through the air like a knife through flesh and bone, finding purchase in the clown’s forehead. He continued on, ranting like a mad man. Tears streaked like flames down his already reddened face, words torrenting off his lips like a storm. The knife he’d stolen from Eddie’s pocket in fear he’d add another stab wound to the count was between his fingers for a moment, then flew. <br/>	He didn’t get to see it find home. </p><p>	The claw, soaked with the blood of his lover and friend, ran him through. A sharp pain flared in him, radiating through his limbs. Blood, dark and shining like the remnents of light, streaked down his jeans and splattered on his shoes. The shallow breath in his ears was louder than Beverly, shrieking loud enough to warrant the demon remove his talon and leave Richie to bleed.<br/>	Black closed in on his vision, his very being.</p><p> </p><p>“ Richie! NO NO NO, stay alive! We can’t lose you too!” </p><p>“ I’m..” Blood started to pool in his collar bones.” I’m so sorry.”</p><p>As the darkness crashed around him, a ghostly hand extended to him. Eddie, thirteen once more, was floating above him, smiling through salty tears. “ Come with me, Richie. You’ll  be safe with us here.”<br/>Stan, ablaze with a soft golden blue, descended next to Eddie. A smile, soft and smug, was tugging at his lips. He waved, wrists whole once more. Slowly, as to not disturb the ground, he found his way to Bill. Bill froze, letting Stan, however transparent, cradle his face in a hand. <br/>Eddie gripped his hand, pulling him up. The peach colored polo he had once worn seemed clean and freshly pressed. Richie stumbled as he rose from where his still-cooling body lay, Mike consoling a trauma-ridden Beverly. It seemed he was thirteen again, the Hawaiian shirt drifting around his hips. <br/>“ Goodbye Bill. I hope you don’t return to me anytime soon.” His voice was choked, tears sliding their way onto the tight pressed collar of his shirt. <br/>Together once more, the trio went upwards, towards four beads of ethereal light, to rejoice in each others company as they watched the three surviors.</p><p> </p><p>Pennywise was flattened against the spike and heart replaced with air before they had reached a comfortable place to sit, Beverly falling to her knees. A rumble shook the place, rock hitting the floor. “ We need to go. Now. “ Bill’s tone was urgent and rough, clumsily taking Bev’s elbow and leading her to the exit of the cistern. “ WE CAN”T JUST LEAVE THEM HERE!”<br/>“ We have no time. “</p><p>As neibolt crumbled around them, the scurried footsteps and splashing of water created a symphony of panic, something that would never leave the surviving four. The sunlight seemed too bright, too harsh, for the horrors they had faced. As they wept outside of Neibolt, clinging to one another, filthy and grimy as they may be.</p><p>The spirits watched from above, saddened smiles painted on their faces. A last goodbye that they could not hear, and they were off to a place they could not go. The Loser’s Club, however split, would remain whole as long as a sole spirit remained. When that spirit passed, they would be together forever and again. Like they always have, and always will be.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>